


not yet corpses (still we rot)

by Spencer_Grey



Series: you have me [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Bisexual Peter Parker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:01:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22217455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spencer_Grey/pseuds/Spencer_Grey
Summary: Harley is home, and Peter and Pepper are learning how to live with this new boy.An almost soft almost epilogue to "until the last star in the galaxy dies"
Relationships: Peter Parker/Harley Keener
Series: you have me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587919
Comments: 3
Kudos: 83





	not yet corpses (still we rot)

Pepper wakes slowly, the lingering remains of her dream still has its claws in her chest. But it quickly fades, her hand clutching the empty space of bed next to her a sudden - yet welcomed - reminder of reality. Clumsily pushing a lock of hair that’s fallen over her face back, she shifts to rest against the headboard. Pepper naturally reaches for her phone on the bedside table, groaning as her blurry eyes read the time. Five - thirty one am - an ungodly hour that she had fallen out of rhythm with waking up by. 

Yet, she drags herself from her warm bed into the coldness of her room, and is showered, dressed, and eating downstairs eating breakfast by six - forty five am. 

Pepper doesn’t bat an eye when she finds Rhodey in the kitchen, eating her food, drinking her coffee. He’s taken to sleeping on the couch lately, not wanting to be so far away from the family right now. She offered up Peter’s room, the boy never sleeps there anyway. But Rhodey refused. 

She joins him wordlessly at the dining table, a plate of still warm toast next to him that he’s laid out for her. This routine is getting too familiar. 

“Anything happen last night?” Rhodey asks after a few minutes, eyes downcast as he swirls his coffee.

The toast is dry, she notes, but Rhodey would hound her if she didn’t eat. Both him and Happy are concerned by how much weight she’s lost - she won’t dare say she hasn’t had an appetite since Tony left with promises of being home soon, he won’t get dragged in again. It’s just a little time travel. So she ignores her protesting stomach and eats. 

“Not that I heard,” she replies at last. “Though, Peter would’ve dealt with it.”

Rhodey shakes his head. “He shouldn’t have to,” he says into his cup. 

Pepper scoffs. “Try telling him that. He needs help himself.” 

Rhodey hums his agreement, downing the last of his drink. “I’m really worried about him. Both of them.” 

Pepper can’t find the energy to respond, forcing herself to swallow. This isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation. The first is reserved for a week after Harley came home - the boys having only just left the secret hospital. Rhodey found Pepper out by the lake in the middle of the night, unable to control her tears. 

And at no point has either of them found a solution to this mess.

The boys have been… struggling isn’t the right word - they’re so beyond that, that Pepper can’t even imagine what’s happening with either of them. Harley and Peter stay holed up in Harley’s room most days, with the latter only coming down for a few hours at a time. Pepper has hardly heard Harley since they came home. It’s destroying them - whatever happened in that AIM base has torn them apart. 

Occasionally, in the dead hours of the night, screams and yells can be heard throughout the house as nightmares plague either boy. Pepper and Rhodey have learned that they are not welcomed in those times. And when Peter comes down in the morning - pale and scrawnier than ever - he never indulges them in an explanation. 

He tells her Harley’s progress, if any, and is slowly detailing every piece of their experiences in the base. Even two months after since Harley’s rescue, the fine details allude Pepper. 

“I thought things would go back to the way they were,” Pepper admits. “I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

“How could you? Hell, we all thought Harley was just kidnapped by some of Tony’s enemies.”

“ _ Just _ kidnapped?”

“You know what I mean,” Rhodey says. “We couldn’t have imagined this.”

The conversation dips, both of them staring into the remains of their breakfasts as if it would give them the answers they so desperately need. Pepper feels sick off a sudden, the idea of eating is too big of a feat this morning.

Happy arrives at seven am on the dot, letting himself in and plonking down next to Rhodey - looking no better than the other two. Pepper can feel Happy glance at her every few seconds, growing rather impatient but she can’t blame him. 

She was the one to call him at ten pm last night, having decided that she’ll return to Stark Industries for the first time since Peter disappeared. But now, Pepper’s having second thoughts. She’s grown bored spending all day at home, but she doesn’t want to leave all her kids alone. She doesn’t want to leave Harley. 

Everything seems too big this morning, and she’s too small, too weak to handle it all. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Happy says quietly. 

Pepper’s eyes flash to him - his earnest expression only quiets the doubts in her mind. “Yeah, I do.” 

Someone needs to support the broken pieces of this family. She’s had her time to breakdown - all thanks to Peter’s words - and now it’s time for her to put her head up, shoulders back, and lead. Pepper needs to show the world that she refuses to crumble, not anymore. 

“Can we stop by Tony first?” she asks. 

“Already planning on it,” Happy answers with a soft smile. 

Pepper nods, taking the pitiful remains of her toast and dumps it in the bin. Leaning against the bench, she wonders if she should bother the boys - she knows better than to wake Morgan up when she doesn’t have to - and tell them she’s leaving. But doubts that they’d even be awake before noon. 

So she collects herself and her things and makes for the door with Happy when a sudden noise behind her snaps her attention.

Spinning on her heel, Pepper says in surprise, “Harley.” 

He stands there, at the bottom of the staircase with his hand still wrapped around the railing. Harley’s hair is a mess, and Pepper’s first thought is that he needs a haircut. There are bags deeper and darker than everyone’s combined under his eyes - and yet, they’re still wide and alert. They skim past Rhodey still at the table, darting behind Pepper to Happy and the closed door. 

“How are you, kid?” Rhodey asks. 

“Fine,” Harley answers far too quickly. 

Pepper doesn’t know what to say, she’s in shock. The scarce times she’s seen Harley, he’s been glued to Peter’s hip, rigid as a board. 

Happy clears his throat, unsure of himself, too, as he asks, “What are - what’re you doing?” 

It’s subtle but Pepper notices how Harley steps back, putting more space between them. His grip on the wooden railing tightens and Pepper thinks she hears it crack. 

“I - um - I need some air,” Harley says, his eyes never landing on one spot for more than a few seconds. “Peter doesn’t like it when I jump out of the window.” 

“You jump… nevermind.” Pepper forces herself to relax, hoping that it would rub off on Harley, his body tense. “Do you want company?”

Harley shakes his head and doesn’t say anything more. Pepper taps Happy on the chest, gesturing with her head and they both move out of the way. Harley eyes them and the door, swallowing as he hesitates. 

Pepper isn’t sure what else to do, so she simply stands there, a vicious voice in her mind noting how afraid he is of them - of  _ her _ . 

But Harley starts moving - as fast as he can while still walking - head down and hand trembling as he reaches for the doorknob. It slams behind him and the three adults let out a collective sigh. 

“Well, that wasn’t weird,” Rhodey remarks. 

Pepper sends him a glare. “At least he’s out of his room.” 

“Should we just leave him out there?” Happy asks. “I mean last time we weren’t looking - ”

“Happy, don’t even dare.” Pepper moves into the lounge, flicking the curtain open just a peek. She finds Harley - well, she sees his back. He’s facing the shed, frozen in place and hands curled into fists and she wonders if they’re stuck like that. Pepper turns back to Rhodey and Happy. “He’s fine out there.” Not a complete lie. “He needs time to himself.”

“If we knew what was happening, we could actually help him.” Rhodey stands, moving towards Pepper. He places a hand onto her arm, leaning to kiss her cheek. “I should get going. Happy?” 

“Yeah, let’s go. Pepper, you still coming?”

Pepper sighs. “I should stay.” 

It’s the first time she’s seen Harley alone, the first time he’s said more than five words at a time. It’s a start, and she wants to be here if there’s any more progress. 

Happy gives her a look, the hint of a smile on his lips - like he knew she’d change her mind. He collects his things, and he and Rhodey leave, the house eerily quiet now. With only her soft breaths, Pepper isn’t sure what to do with herself. She knows better than to invade Harley’s space, especially after he declined her offer - but there’s nothing more she wants than to be out there with her son. 

Against the rational side of her, Pepper takes another glance out the window, hoping she’d see guys talking. Instead, she finds Happy’s car pulling out of the driveway, and Harley is nowhere to be found. She shouldn’t panic, she knows that shouldn’t worry her, but fear spikes in her heart - where could he have gone?

Pepper forces herself to move away from the window and into the kitchen - muscle memory leading her to brew a cup of coffee, the action gives her mind time to think.

She assumes that Harley’s simply slipped into the shed turned lab - as Tony had when he’d returned from Afghanistan. Though, he had been creating the first real Iron Man suit. That thought makes a small smile spread across Pepper’s face. 

Harley would probably end up making something even more extravagant. 

Even so, Pepper finds herself anxiously tapping her fingers on the kitchen bench. By the time she’s finished her coffee - and if her tongue is burnt, she’ll never let it show - Pepper’s made up her mind. 

The mug clatters in the sink and she’s out the door before she can think otherwise. She regrets not finding a pair of shoes first, the grass cold and damp with dew, but she hurries forward anyway.

Pepper makes sure to knock loudly before entering, letting out a sigh of relief when Harley is there - hunched over a workbench. He drops the screwdriver in his hands as he looks up to her, soft curls draping over his eyes. He’d look childish if it weren’t for the hardened wall behind his eyes. Not a glare but thick with distrust. 

“Hey,” she says, unsure of herself, hovering in the doorway. 

“Hi.” 

“Are you… hungry?” Pepper asks, cursing herself for not even bothering to think of an excuse to check on him. 

“No, I’m fine,” Harley replies. 

Pepper takes a small step inside, closing the door behind her. She sees something flash over Harley’s eyes, his body stiffening. It sends a dagger through her heart. She moves away from the door, giving him free rein to reach it and so she’s not trapping him in. 

“What are you working on?” Pepper keeps her tone light, pretending to be more interested in some discarded device on another table. She can’t tell what it was meant to be. 

Harley doesn’t answer for a moment. “I - I don’t really know,” he admits quietly. 

Pepper looks over her shoulder at him, finding him staring down at the pieces of metal and wires before him. 

She takes a risk and nears him, inspecting the work in progress. Pepper recognises it with a painful realisation. 

“It was a school project,” she says. 

She’s seen Peter play with it many times during those three months. Taking it apart and putting it back together - never more than where Harley got to and never better than it was, as much as Peter wanted to. The robotics project he never got to finish, and doesn’t remember. 

“Oh,” is all he says. After a brief moment, he adds, “you can sit, if you want.” He points to a wheelie chair - Peter’s chair. 

Pepper wonders if he knew the difference. 

She drags it to the other side of the workbench Harley’s working on, sitting down opposite of him. 

Pepper can’t find the right words to say - not wanting to ask questions in case she pushes too far but doesn’t want to sit in this tense silence. 

“What school did I go to?” Harley’s voice is so quiet and rough that Pepper doesn’t hear him at first. 

Then she answers, “You went to Midtown for about a year.” 

She hates how they’re talking in past tense, but she’s starting to accept that the boy they’re talking about is gone - dead in that AIM base. She loves this boy all the same but he’s different now, and she can’t fool herself. 

“Only a year?” 

Peter shuffles in her seat. “Yeah, when you moved here, it wasn’t even a choice. You wanted to be with Peter.”

Harley smiles faintly at that but then is silent for a while, focusing on the work before him. Pepper is ignorant of what he’s doing. At some point, as he attaches a wire, it zaps him with a jolt of electricity. 

He flinches violently, almost falling off his chair. Pepper reaches out for him on instinct but it only scares him more. He moves so fast, Pepper can’t register it. His hand shoots out, seizing hold of a wrench. Harley draws it back. 

Neither breathe, neither moves, Pepper can only stare at her son - the wrench in hand meant for her. 

She dares to blink and Harley’s trembling, lip quivering and he falls apart. 

The wrench drops, a loud bang sounds as it lands on the ground. Harley’s head falls into his hands, silent sobs tearing through his body. 

Pepper doesn’t remember moving, her body acting without thought but she finds herself crouching before him, wrapping her arms around the boy. She doesn’t think he knows what’s happening as he dips his head into the crook of her neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he mutters between sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean - ”

“No, no, baby, it’s okay,” she coos, a hand coming to hold to the back of his neck. His hands clutch the loose fabric of her blouse. “It’s okay.” 

Pepper stays like that, barely breathing to keep Harley this close, even as her legs cramp. She holds him until his body stills, his tears dry, and he pulls back. With red rimmed eyes, Harley studies her. 

“Why?” he asks, a shake in his voice that she pays no mind to. 

“Why what?” 

Harley wipes at his tear stained cheek. “Why do you care so much about me?”

Pepper almost chokes on her breath. “Harley - ”

“I mean, I was ready to attack you. I - I’m dangerous. I shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t - I should go. I need to go. I’m dangerous, I’m just gonna hurt you. I - ”

“Breathe, sweetheart.” Pepper forced herself to stay calm, hands coming to frame his face and she wipes away the fresh tears. “You’re not dangerous, you’re a kid.” 

“Tell that to Peter.”

Pepper remembers that conversation with painful clarity. Peter breaking down and explaining who the masked man - Green Goblin, as he’s apparently called - really is. Who gave him the bruises, the reason Morgan has a scar across her cheek. She brushes that aside, Peter doesn’t think Harley remembers that part and that’s how she wants it to stay. 

“Peter doesn’t blame you, no one does,” she says, trying to put all of her strength into her voice to convince him. 

“You should,” Harley responds, unable to meet Pepper’s gaze. His voice trembles freely, as does the rest of his body - like he’s fighting the urge to bolt. “You can’t trust me, Pepper.” 

A single tear rolls down Pepper’s cheek, words escaping her because she knows there is nothing to say - nothing that can soothe his wretched heart. 

A small part of her mind is still conscious enough to register the fact that this was the first time he’s said her name. She puts that away for now. 

“Harley, nothing you did was your fault.” She lifts his head so he’s forced to meet his gaze. “I trust you,” she says, voice strong, firm. “I trust my son.” 

“I’m not him,” he says, so sure of himself. 

“You always have been and you always will be. No matter what.” 

Harley sniffles, nodding ever so slightly. Whether he believes her or he simply wants this to be over, nevertheless she draws away, sitting on the balls of her feet. 

“Are you hungry?” Pepper asks again, the only way she knows how to change the conversation. 

Harley looks at her with an unreadable expression, weighing his options. Finally, he nods and stands with her. 

Pepper doesn’t think about the action, but as she reaches for Harley’s hand, he regards her with eyes full of bewilderment. But it fades, his usual guarded look returns but Pepper swears there’s an extra spark. 

She leads him from the shed and into the house. He hovers by the door, waiting. 

“You can sit down, if you want,” Pepper says with a soft smile, gesturing to the lounge. 

_ If you want. If you want _ . She can see the words bouncing around in his mind, scrambling for an answer to the meaning. She feigns disinterest as she floats around the kitchen, collecting bits and pieces, but visibly relaxes when she sees him take a seat on the couch. Right in the middle as he used to - so Morgan could curl into him and he could lean against Peter. 

_ Don’t cry again _ , she thinks, a prayer more than a demand. 

Harley checks a few times that she isn’t watching, and she most certainly acts like it, before leaning forward and collecting the remote. The TV flickers on to the last thing they were watching, which happens to be one of Morgan’s cartoons. 

It’s bright and loud, Pepper will agree, but Harley audibly winces - covering his eyes from the sight. He fumbles with the remote before it changes to a less bright, calmer channel. 

Pepper tells herself to remember that for later - maybe she should ask Peter about when he got bitten by the spider. If the bite was similar to what AIM gave Harley, hopefully he’d have answers. 

A little more than ten minutes later, Pepper is settling next to Harley - putting a plate of eggs and bacon onto his lap. She sets a plate of her own onto a pillow first. 

“Eat up,” she says. 

As Harley digs in straight away to his food, Pepper smiles fondly - this is it, this is more than she had before. And that means she can get what they have back. 

For the first time in a year, Pepper is hungry. 

-

Peter's heart skips a beat when Harley joins him, the early morning sun shining on his face as he sits by Peter’s side. 

Peter hadn’t been able to sleep and had crawled out their window, down the side of the house, coming to rest under a large oak tree overlooking the water. With the rising sun came Harley, and a sentence that Peter hadn’t expected. 

“I wanna go back to school.” 

Peter tries to keep himself neutral but he’d never been good at concealing his emotions. Neither is Harley, at least not anymore - and he’s unpredictable, jumping from one extreme to another. Which is exactly why Peter disagrees so adamantly. 

“Is that a good idea?” Peter asks, pressing their shoulders together. 

“You don’t think it is.” There’s a distinct trace of disappointment in his voice, and he leans ever so slightly away. 

Peter turns to look at Harley, trying to get his attention but Harley decidedly doesn’t want to look at him. Peter would reach for Harley’s hand - the action so ingrained in his mind now that he feels empty without that weight - if it weren’t for the fact that Harley’s fists were clenched tightly, knuckles turning white. 

Peter realises he spoke wrong. 

“Harley, it’s just, well, you know,” Peter tries. He takes a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. “I just think you need more time.”

“There’s no such thing as enough time,” Harley retorts, clearly he’s practiced his responses, planning out this conversation. “I feel like a freak being locked up here every day.”

Peter sighs - he can’t disagree. He knows that returning to some sense of normalcy can do wonders. Hell, Peter still uses holds onto that memory of sneaking out to May’s to keep himself grounded sometimes - minus what happened once they left her. 

But, put simply, he’s selfish. And he knows it. He wants Harley around him all the time, needing the weight of his presence to remind him that they are truly home - safe, free. The idea of letting Harley go where he can’t follow sends waves of anxiety through him. 

_ Not again _ , he thinks, _ I won’t leave him again _ . 

“I know,” Peter says. “But still, it’s - it’s too soon.” 

“Then when? When will I - it be enough?”

Peter doesn’t answer. 

“Exactly,” Harley says. “You all think I just need to breathe some fresh air and I’ll be fine in, what, a year? Two?” 

“Who’s _ you all _ ?” 

“You, Pepper - ” Harley hesitates for a moment - “Bucky.”

Peter shoots up, twisting around to face Harley properly. “You talk to Bucky? Since when?”

Harley looks uncomfortable as he says, “Uh, a few weeks ago? I think. Pepper came up with the idea and - and we’ve been talking, just through letters.”

“How am I only now finding out about this?”

“What do you think I do when you’re asleep?” Harley asks, a tease of a smile on his lips that Peter can’t bring himself to even feign being mad at. 

“I don’t know, sleep?” 

“That doesn’t sound like me.”

Harley gives a small chuckle, but the sound is heavenly, soaring through the sky - bouncing over the still lake. Peter latches onto it, trying to keep that echo written in his mind. He hasn’t had the chance to remember how sorely he missed the sound - light and breezy, not a care in the world - too busy trying to hold the fragile pieces of himself and Harley together. 

This is what he’s been working on, for so goddamn long Peter has wanted exactly this. 

A moment, where they can both breathe and be  _ them _ . 

“No, it really doesn’t,” Peter says, preparing himself to possibly break this tedious truce. “How about this: one more month, and then we can think about it more.”

Harley nods. “Fine, I can do that.” 

Unsure, Peter holds out his hand - palm up on his knee. Harley looks at him, his hand, then back to him, taking Peter’s hand and their fingers interlock. Peter shifts back, leaning against the tree again. 

There, they watch the sun’s gentle reflection on the water as it rises through the sky. Absentmindedly, Harley rubs his thumb over Peter’s skin, eyes a delicate balance between distant and unguarded. 

After a few minutes, Peter breaks the comfortable silence. “What do you and Bucky talk about?”

Something in Harley shifts and Peter is ready to backtrack but then he says, “Anything. Nothing. It’s just nice to talk to someone who understands,” sounding almost ashamed. 

“That’s good. I’m glad that he’s helping you.” 

A bird’s call in the distance snaps Harley’s attention. He stares in that direction until it appears from the tree line, flying across the sky. 

“I’m still not used to that,” Harley whispers. “There’s so much… colour and sound and fuck, it’s a lot.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Peter says just as quietly - a conversation wholly for only them and them alone. The world cannot take it. “I spent a week in bed under the covers. Told May I had the flu but it was just the city was too much.” 

“Sometimes I forget, like everything else. But then I hear Morgan humming downstairs, or Happy’s car before he’s even in the driveway.” 

“It’s never seemed to bother you before, though.” 

The  _ before  _ that Peter means is the weeks spent holed up in Harley’s room - blinds drawn as the world moved on around them. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t think I really had any idea what was happening,” Harley says, meaning  _ that  _ before. “It never affected me until you showed up.” 

“Oh, so it’s my fault?” Peter teases, letting his voice get carried with the breeze that’s floating past. 

“Couldn’t just leave me alone, could you?” 

“I missed having someone to annoy.” 

Harley rolls his eyes. “Love you, too.” 

Peter freezes, breath caught in his throat - Harley’s unbothered face only furthering his inability to think. He sees nothing wrong with that sentence, doesn’t feel Peter’s panic because _ they are not the same  _ \- their love is not the same. 

Peter’s always been more - always too much, more extreme than everyone else around him and that has only been proven further with Harley. He loves Peter because they are friends, brothers even. But Peter can’t say the same. 

And yet, he won’t say otherwise. 

This isn’t the time - but there never will be a right time. So Peter will continue to sit there, not saying a word and going along with whatever is given to him. 

“Wow, gay much,” Peter teases, voice light and breezy but his heart is being squeezed by an invisible force. 

“I’m bi, I’m allowed to be gay.” 

Peter chuckles, Harley laughs softly - and Peter can’t remember ever losing this. They’ve always been like this, nothing horrid has ever touched them. 

They’re safe. Free. 

Together. 

Peter bites his tongue, keeping everything hidden inside and simply enjoys Harley’s presence. This is enough. He won’t ask for more. 

“I love you, too,” Peter says. And he knows it will never be reciprocated but he’s okay with that. As long as Harley is by his side, the world is manageable, survivable. 

He doesn’t know what more he can do to fix this. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
